


when flowers bloom

by honey_grace



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Angst, Anorexia, Bruises, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Healing, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Purging, Spencer Deserves Better, Starvation, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_grace/pseuds/honey_grace
Summary: everyone has a story- some past better left forgotten. but spencer reid can't forget his. his entire life, he's been bullied and ridiculed. he kept himself buried and forgotten until his trauma manifested its self as an eating disorder."i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough." -{seventy years of sleep}
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 18
Kudos: 201





	1. caffeine

**Author's Note:**

> this story won't always be this sad, but boy this chapter is. mentions of rape and other abuse (also the f-slur). please don't read if you are easily upset by these topics. stay safe!

Spencer walked through the front doors of the BAU like he owned the place- only because Derek Morgan was by his side.

“Pretty boy, how much coffee do you drink in let’s say… a week?” Morgan said.

Reid would be lying if he said he didn’t know. He knew the exact number of plastic cups he’d sipped the life out of. He did the math- every morning after his shower, 1 cup. After he reads half a novel, 2. On his way to work, he stops for another. That makes three before 7:30 am. He estimated around 7 cups a day so… 49 in a week. But he lied to his friend anyway.

“I’d estimate around 20, maybe 25 when it’s action-packed around here.” He really was lying through his teeth.

“Okay. Yeah, right! I swear kid, if it’s not coffee, it’s diet coke.” Morgan retorted- he was only half-joking.

Morgan and Reid had always been close ever since Spencer joined the BAU. Though he was fresh-faced and bright-eyed, Morgan always felt Reid had an old soul- like someone who wise from years of heartache. They had shared a lot of laughs and a lot of tears together. They had made it through more in their lives than many people could imagine in their worst nightmares.

“How have you been, by the way?” Morgan asks Reid seemingly out of the blue.

“Fine by all your standards, Why?” The answer caught Morgan off-guard. Spencer had always been reserved, but never hateful.

“Hold it. What’s up with you? You were fine just a minute ago. Did I say something?” Morgan was always scared he “said something” wrong.

“No-no you didn’t. I’m just hun—tired. I’m just tired.” Spencer blurted. 

The truth was, Reid was hungry. He hadn’t eaten for 2 days, aside from candy here and there. Every smell he came in contact with made his stomach ache or his skin crawl: the bagel stand by his apartment, Morgan’s “honey blossom” cologne, hell- even his toothpaste made him hungry. He was scared Morgan was starting to notice.

“Spence, you look more than tired. No offense, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Offense taken.” Spencer shortly replied. 

Morgan felt hurt by the remark which came so easily from his best friend’s lips. Even though he was half-joking about Reid’s appearance before, he was right. He still thought he pushed him too far though. He was about to apologize when Hotch texted the team and told them to report to the briefing room “immediately.”  
—————  
When they got there, Reid sat on the opposite side of the table from Morgan- He loved him, but that didn’t make their conversation this morning any less awkward.  
Everyone was seated, except for Penelope Garcia, she was waiting for Rossi to arrive before she started the briefing. 

David Rossi walked in 10 minutes late -as usual. “Geez- you could cut the tension in here with a knife.” He said as a light-hearted joke to liven up the room a little; it was not well received. 

Spencer studied the room and its inhabitants: no one was happy this morning. Everyone sat around the table were passing glances of anger or annoyance- for once Reid felt like maybe his problems would just go under the radar for today.

Penelope noticed the added tension today as well, but instead of addressing it, she just continued with the slideshow. 

“Jason Carver, Patrick Samson, and Reggie Doul were all bludgeoned to death with a pipe in San Angles, Nevada. The M.Es found traces of semen and sweat on all of the bodies. They all appear to have been sexually assaulted.” She turned to change the slide but made the mistake of looking when she did so. The graphic, bloody nature of the photos was too much for her sensitive soul to take, so she instead powered down the monitor. “Eww! Eww! Oh my GOD! Even I draw the line somewhere. I’ve already sent the cases to your tablets.”

“Babygirl, what makes this different than any of our other cases. This guy profiles exactly like a power-assertive rapist, it doesn’t seem special to me.” Morgan spoke clearly.

“Oh hun, you’d think that, but actually..”

“The M.E report says all of the victims were assaulted within four hours of each other,” Reid cut her off, “sorry.”

“Is that amount of carnage in that short of time even possible? I mean, those crime scenes are at least 30 miles apart, if not farther.” Agent Prentiss joined the conversation.

“I mean theoretically, yes. If the unsub were to drive a minimum of 85 miles per hour on the highway connecting the crime scenes, then he should have enough time to—“

Hotch gently placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder to keep him from rambling. Reid quieted and his face went flush with embarrassment.

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch warned.  
——————

Once they were on the plane, the only thing Reid wanted to do was sleep. His eyes were heavy and his body ached with hunger. Reid and Morgan had quickly forgotten about their tiff this morning and were back to being themselves. Reid gently closed his eyes and let his head spill onto Derek’s shoulder before slipping into a not so peaceful rest.

——————  
_It was 2 days after what Spencer had factually named “the goal-post incident.” - a group of kids who liked to bully him had decided to make him the butt of a practical joke. They invited him to play soccer with them on the field but when he got there, he was the only one dressed for playing. They stripped him naked and teased him endlessly, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they left him there. Naked and scared and in the rain until morning, when a teacher finally found him._

_Two days later, Jackson Ferren, a senior involved in the incident, approached him in the hall. He said he wanted to make amends for what he and his friends had done, and that he had bought Spencer a gift to make up for it. Spencer was hesitant at first, obviously, but reasoned there was no motivation for Jason to hurt him twice in a row, or in such close succession._

_Spencer followed him out to his car and hopped in the back like Jason told him to. They were in the furthest corner of the parking lot and no one could see them through the tint on the windows. Jason crawled into the backseat with Spencer and tells him to close his eyes. Spencer thinks Jason is about to give him his gift but instead is startled by Jason’s lips on his. Spencer immediately opens his eyes and jerks away from him. He was only 12 years old and Jason was easily 18. Jason persisted and tried to kiss him. This time, when Spencer swatted him away, he used his strength to hold Spencer’s arms against the back door of the car. He used his leg to move Spencer’s thighs apart and rubbed between them with his knee. Jason asked him if he liked it; Spencer didn’t say anything. Jason was angry with the lack of response._

_“Answer me, Faggot!”_

_Spencer again said nothing at all. He hoped this would end soon._

_Jason easily turned Spencer over due to his small frame and ripped his khaki uniform pants off. They tore at the seams from the force and he was no gentler with Spencer’s underwear. He shredded the fabric like they were nothing and started to unzip his pants. Spencer spoke up and begged him to stop._

_“PLEASE! Don’t do this to me,” he was screaming, tears streaming down his face, “I’ll do whatever you want. Just PLEASE STOP!” but Jason wasn’t listening._

_He placed himself in-between Spencer’s legs and entered. Hard and rough, he fucked the boy until he came. He finished and redressed himself, but left Spencer half-naked and abused in the backseat._

_Spencer never looked at himself the same way again. He saw a disgusting boy who was used and damaged. He withdrew into himself after the assault; he always had a pen in his hand or his nose in some book. He was so consumed in his work that he forgot to eat often. Eventually, it was enough to notice the changes in his body: protruding hips, bony fingers, and a face that rivaled that of a ghost. He liked it, it made him feel in control. He kept going- getting thinner and thinner every day until finally, he couldn’t lose any more weight. Then he starved himself just to feel alive._

——————  
When Spencer woke he was sweaty and panicked. It was the first time he’d had that nightmare in months. 

Morgan put his hand over Reid’s and gently caressed it with his thumb. The concern behind his eyes was evident, but he didn’t want any movements to upset Reid, so he spoke gently. In Morgan’s eyes, Spencer had always been fragile, but these days it felt like he was breaking- like everything he had ever been running from was catching up with him. Morgan could see the hurt written on Reid’s face; all he wanted to do was hold him in his arms and run his hands through his hair and tell him everything would be okay-- though he wasn’t entirely convinced that was true. So instead, he settled for talking through it.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream? It might be all the caffeine.” Morgan said in an airy, soft voice. He had just woken up too.

“Everything’s fine. Yeah, I just had a bad dream is all. It probably is the coffee, maybe I should lay off,” Reid chuckled and nuzzled back into Morgan- he always made him feel better, “go ahead and go back to sleep, we’ll be there soon.”


	2. non-recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "one of the hardest things you'll ever have to do, my dear, is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter obviously deals with themes of ed, but there are elements of drug addiction in it as well. please be safe <3

The plane ride felt like an eternity to Derek. He had so much love in his heart for Spencer but god! His arm went to sleep an hour and a half ago. It hurt bad enough, it was numb. He had made up his mind to ignore it. He wouldn’t dare wake up the angel-faced boy sleeping on his chest. Spencer needed him right now, more than ever. Even though he hadn’t said anything, or asked for help, Derek knew. 

The entire ride, Derek couldn’t stop thinking about what Spencer said: “Everything’s fine.” Everything’s fine? He knew that was a lie. It was always a lie. Since the day they met, Reid had always been the one to take care of everyone else. He never stopped to make sure he was okay himself-- or maybe he did, but didn’t like the answer Derek speculated. 

Morgan was lost in thought when a small tap on his shoulder took him out of it. 

“Hey, Morgan. I know he’s asleep, but we really need to discuss the case. He’s tired but we need his head right now,” JJ spoke warmly so as not to disturb Reid.

“Okay. You guys go ahead, we’ll be there in a second.”

Morgan was annoyed at the objectification. His head? He’s a person. He thought to himself, but he knew JJ meant nothing by the comment. 

JJ nodded in acceptance. 

She and Reid had been close as well. Before Prentiss’s “death,” they were inseparable-- but the tear between them from the lie was too much to repair. 

Reid began stirring. Morgan swore that boy was always listening, even when he was asleep. He moved his head first, and then shifted his legs in the right position to get up, but after that, he didn’t move. He was trying, he just didn’t have the strength.

“Hey, is everything alright? Talk to me,” worry was written on Derek’s face, he was sure.

“I’m fine,” Spencer was clearly lying. He hadn’t been ‘fine’ for a really long time. He knew he was sick, but he didn’t have the time to care-- or he wouldn’t make time, anyway. He thought he was doing a lot better, and for a while, he was. He ate more than once a day, he quit drinking coffee- instead, replacing it with Ensure and water. He thought he was gonna make it out of all of this okay. He was wrong.

He was so weak now, he literally could not push himself off of Derek. He knew it was tiring taking care of someone like him -helpless- especially for someone like Derek who was so independent.

After what seemed to Spencer to be an hour, he felt like he had the strength to peel himself off of Derek’s chest. 

He moved one hand flat against the chest which had been his pillow so many times when he felt his worst. He pushed with his hand and dug in with the opposite elbow to give himself some leverage. 

He thought it was sad how excited he was when he got up by himself; most of the time he couldn’t, not for a long time anyway. If he ever fell in his apartment -which was often- he’d grab the nearest book and read for hours until he gained some strength.

“Damn, kid, you’re bony. You eatin’ enough?” Derek made the comment as a joke, but he could tell it hurt Spencer’s feelings. Spencer hadn’t eaten like he was supposed to since he was 12. His stomach ached and he knew all the progress he had made in recovery was wasted.

Derek thought he saw a tear collect in Spencer’s eye, but he pushed past him and walked to the restroom before Derek had a chance to apologize.

Derek knew he messed up. But if he didn’t get up soon, Hotch would be on him for the next 2 days about “having a responsibility to his team.”

He sighed and walked to the team, which had congregated toward the front of the plane. Penelope’s shining face was already on the computer screen.

“Where’s boy wonder? This one's doozy.” She always found a way to make cases fun. Whether it was nicknames for Reid and Morgan or a goofy way of looking at the case, she made everyone feel better. Considering their line of work, that was crucial.

When Reid came out of the bathroom, he poured himself another cup of coffee with shaky hands. Morgan watched him struggle and silently shook his head. 

Reid half limped to join the team--his legs weren’t quite strong enough to carry him. 

He sat down and took a deep breath. He felt how long the day was going to be, and it was barely 10 am.

Garcia started her spill about what new information she had found and who she had spoken to at the San Angeles PD, but Reid wasn’t listening. He couldn’t focus. 

He hadn’t been able to focus for a long time. Actually, he hadn’t been able to focus since early spring, specifically March, specifically since Diana, his mom, had gotten worse and was put on bed rest. That was 172 days ago.

172 days since Spencer had eaten an entire meal. 4.73 months since he had slept through the whole night. He had been getting better. He went to all his meetings, he ate like he was supposed to. He did everything right, but Diana still got sick. Nothing in his life mattered if his mom was dead. He stopped eating again and instead put his time into visiting her. Well, for a while anyway. 

Eventually, he had to stop visiting so much, she may have been getting worse, but she always managed to ask him about recovery. It’s like that’s the one thing she remembered. He couldn’t keep seeing his mom waste away in bed while he did the same. 

Reid managed to make himself coherent enough to listen to the conversation.

“-- SAPD said they had a suspect in custody?” Hotch was invariably factual when it came to their cases.

“Yes but sir, no offense meant, I think they have the wrong guy.”

“How come, Garcia?” Prentiss always respected her friend’s opinion, but maybe Penelope had this one wrong.

“Oh, well he doesn’t fit the parts of the profile you talked about earlier. He grew up with a nice family and a loving hou--”

No one had asked Reid a question so he zoned out again. He knew it was rude. He cared about these people, so why was it so easy to ignore them? Part of him was screaming to pay attention, but the other part didn’t have the energy.

His name caught his attention. 

“Reid!” Hotch spit at him. He was clearly upset, but concerned because Reid hadn’t been paying attention. He calmed down though when the young boy lifted his head to respond.

“Yes! Sorry. I think Garcia’s right, there isn’t enough evidence in his personal life to assume that he has more than one factor of the homicidal triad. He may have fallen off the wagon now, but nothing in his past reads as psychopathic or sociopathic.”

“Thank you for joining the conversation. I agree. Let’s figure out where they messed up.” Hotch spoke dryly. His sarcasm was an attempt at comedy, Reid was sure, but it just made him feel worse.

\------------

He must have fallen asleep again because when he woke up his arm was thrown limply over Morgan’s shoulder and his legs dragged behind him. Being carried around like some little girl’s stuffed doll made him feel utterly useless.

Softly he spoke, “Put me down.”

Derek didn’t seem to hear him.

“Put me down!” He wailed, “I can fucking take care of myself!”

Derek was taken aback. He’d been friends with Spencer for longer than he can even remember and not once has he yelled at him. Derek was hurt, but he was more concerned with why the nicest boy in the world told him to screw off.

He watched Spencer storm away on shaky legs. He hated seeing him like this. Derek hoped his worst fear hadn’t come true. He had this deep, aching feeling in his stomach like he’d had before. It had been gaining on him for a while, but he kept ignoring it for Spencer’s sake. Because, if it was true, he couldn’t see him with a happy ending.

\-----------

That night while they were in their shared hotel room-- which was more than awkward, to say the least--Derek kept tossing and turning, but he couldn’t get comfortable.

He flipped on his side to see if Spencer was still there, as if one day he might float away and not come back. He was, thankfully, so Derek again flipped onto his back.

He waited and waited and tossed and turned and flipped pillows and kicked sheets and finally tuckered himself out. 

\------------

_It was 3 months after Spencer’s kidnapping by Tobias Hankel. Derek knew how little Spencer had left his apartment in the past months, unless it was for work._

__

__

Spence had seemed really down for the past couple of days-even more than usual. He was limping around and his eyes seemed heavy. He wasn’t eating at all and his eyes looked like they might fall into his head at any minute. Derek just thought he needed some cheering up.

Derek was on his way to Spencer’s apartment after convincing him of a sleepover. They were going to get Le Cercle Rouge on VHS because of course Spencer had a tape player and of course it was his favorite. 

Derek knocked on the door-- anticipating a quick response -- but there was nothing. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Nothing. He yelled for Spencer, thinking maybe he was just lost in some book.

Spencer didn’t come to the door. 

Derek went to turn the handle, and the door was unlocked. Panic set in, heartache washed over his face and left a pale, green ghost in its path. 

He never left the door unlocked. Not once has he ever left his door unlocked.

Derek walked in slowly. He was afraid of what he might find.

His open-concept living room made it easy to see that Spencer was nowhere immediately visible. Not the kitchen, not on the couch, not standing by the window reading his favorite book for the 3rd time this month.

Derek started to cry. He was so worried, he thought he might be sick.

He raced to Spencer’s bathroom and looked everywhere, but still came up empty.

The only place left to check in his apartment was his bedroom.

Derek had decided that if, in fact, he did find Spencer and he was just fine, Derek might kill him himself for making him worry so much.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, Derek listened, but he couldn’t hear even the slightest breath.

He pushed himself through the door frame and saw Spence lying on the floor. 

“Get up, man. Angle-face, this isn’t funny,” God, Derek prayed he was okay.

He knelt down quickly and flipped him over. He yelped in horror at the sight of the man he loved so much riddled with track marks and an empty needle sticking out of his arm.

Derek cried and begged Spencer to get up.

“Don't you dare fucking do this to me. Get up!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, but there was no response. Derek’s world was upside down. 10 minutes ago Derek was the happiest he’d been in a long time because Spencer was opening up to him, but now-- he wasn’t sure his fresh-faced, shining boy would live to see 24.

Derek grabbed his head and held it in his lap while he called 9-1-1. The operator said the EMTs were 7 minutes away.

That was 7 minutes too long. In 7 minutes he could be dead. 

In 7 minutes, Derek’s entire world fell apart.

Spencer’s eyes rolled back in his head. His skin was yellow and his eyes were bloodshot-- he looked like he was already dead.

But Derek could still feel his heartbeat through his chest. He just kept squeezing his hand, hoping maybe something -anything- would help bring him back.

By the time the ambulance got there, Derek’s face was stained with tears.

The EMT came and took Spencer out of his hands.

“Please, you have to do something! I can’t lose him.”

“Sir. We are going to do everything we can to help, but he’s been here, like this, for a while. Dilaudid overdoses are extremely serious and oftentimes fatal. You have to accept the fact that he might not make it to the hospital.”

_Derek’s heart sank._

\----------  
Abruptly, the dream ended.

A small nudge on Derek’s shoulder woke him from his sleep.

Spencer was standing at the side of his bed, swallowed in a shirt that could’ve easily fit Derek.

He apologized and asked if Derek was okay.

“Not really, kid.”

“Come here.” Spence crawled into bed with him and held his hand as they fell back to sleep. He knew Derek needed to know he was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait you guys. this was going up tuesday but i didn't like how the chapter was developing, so i re-wrote it. if you have any suggestions, please let me know! :)


	3. brownies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "do not be ashamed of the wars your soul has fought to save itself" - isra al-thibeh

They woke up in the morning way too damn early for Morgan’s taste. He was used to being up at ungodly hours, but peeling himself out of bed at 4:30 am was an entirely different feat.

Spencer wasn’t up yet, which, most of the time, was typical. Lately, if he wasn’t working a case or nursing a Redbull through a straw, he was asleep. Anywhere he could find would work according to Morgan’s observations: the plane, Morgan’s shoulder, the hotel reception desk. Anywhere worked.

Morgan kept his mouth shut most of the time. Reid had had a really tough few months with his mom and bless his heart, he put in more hours at work than anyone else except for Hotch.

Morgan went to shake him awake, but he hesitated. He always looked so serene when he slept; like all his troubles were gone and he was finally getting some rest. Despite his qualms, Morgan resigned to waking him up anyway; they had a lot of work to do today and didn’t have any spare time to sleep in.

Morgan knew how jumpy Reid could be because of his time with Tobias, so he shook him gently, with the grace of a man who had also been broken before.

“Heyyyyy, pretty boy,” He almost spoke with the calming lilt of a new mother “time to waaaaaaake up.”

Reid stirred slightly in his sleep and soon after opened his eyes. Nearly as soon as he did, Morgan opened the curtain to reveal their less-than-scenic view of the nearest gas station. 

Reid sat up, but Morgan could tell it was too quick from the way he held his head in his hand after. Reid shook it off and committed to actually getting out of the bed.

Left leg. He put his cold foot firmly on the even colder floor. He did the same with his right. He put both arms behind his back to support himself and extended his elbows. He lifted his torso and put all of his weight on his legs: that was his mistake. 

In an audible cry, Reid fell from the bed. Not far, it was only 2 or so feet, but it was enough. He sat on the floor, waiting for Derek to come out of the bathroom. It seemed to Spencer that it took Derek and eternity to finish brushing his teeth, when actually it was only 3 minutes.

Derek came out of the bathroom and couldn’t see Spencer anywhere. Panic set in until he saw him on the floor and his heart fell through his chest. Memories of Spencer’s overdose were still fresh on his mind and he took off in a sprint to get to him as quickly as possible.

He wrapped his arms around Spencer’s chest and lifted him until he was standing, leaning against Derek. It didn’t take Spencer very long to regain his strength, but he didn’t move. He felt so bad for yelling at Derek yesterday that he just stood there, crying into his chest for a while. 

He composed himself and shrank away from Derek’s embrace.

Derek took his thumb and wiped the tears streaking Spencer’s face with his shirttail. Even through his shirt, Derek could feel the briery prick of Spencer’s cheekbone under his finger. 

\-----------

After that fiasco, they both went their separate ways and got dressed. Reid skipped his shower this morning, instead opting to put his hair in a middle bun. It wasn’t a fashion statement. Reid hadn’t gone to any of his scheduled hair appointments for over six months, since before his mom got really sick again. His hair was greasy and matted in some places, but he could never find the energy to wash it really, so he decided throwing it in a ponytail was easier. His face wasn’t much better: sunken eyes and a shadowed jaw were a dead giveaway that he wasn’t taking care of himself. And everyone, including him, could see. He knew he looked tired, he just didn’t care. He didn’t have the energy to. 

He threw on his usual outfit which encased a nice shirt and a cardigan, paired with dark jeans and black sneakers. It was boring and simple, but it was easy. Spencer picked up his satchel and gathered his papers from the counter in the kitchenette. He and Morgan left an hour early to grab something to eat.

They pulled up to the gas station and debated what they would get as they walked in.

“Whatcha want, doll?”

“Oh. Well uh, I don’t really know. A brownie maybe?” Spencer hated talking about food. 

“What’re you getting?”

Spencer’s eyes widened and his stomach sickened as he listened to Derek’s breakfast wish list. He named everything from sausage and biscuits to pizza to cake even. Spencer’s stomach recoiled at just the thought of eating that much food.

“Oh, that sounds nice.” No. It didn’t. It sounded like 45 minutes of making himself vomit. 2 hours running after work that night. An all-day stomach ache. But he digressed.

They go in and purchase their meals in separate corners of the store since spencer opted for the coffee bar instead of food. 

Spencer made sure he waited until Derek was already back in the car before he bought his lone coffee. He hated it when anyone watched him buy food, especially Derek. He knew Derek would be upset with him, disappointed even, that he was only buying coffee. Derek would joke around about it, nonetheless.

“Hi! Um, can I have a Triple Red Eye, please?” Spencer spoke sweetly yet short to the young cashier.

“You want three espresso shots, dude?” 

“Yep. Black coffee, three shots. Iced, please. Thank you!”

“Okay…” The cashier seemed more than uncomfortable to make a coffee that strong, Spencer knew most people couldn’t stomach it.

Spencer left the gas station, coffee in hand, and walked delicately to the car. He sat down and sighed, tired from just the walk there and back.

Spencer made the move to puncture his straw through his lid. He avoided eye contact with Derek for as long as possible. He couldn’t stand the thought of Derek reprimanding him for his eating habits. He wished Derek would just let it go. It was obvious to everyone around him that Spencer was having a hard time. People knew he was skipping a few meals here and there. They all assumed he was just busy.

What no one knew though, was that he hadn’t eaten anything for 3 days, had only slept 9 hours and 37 minutes in those 3 days, and had thrown up 2 out of 3. No one knew or cared that he was six feet, one inch and he only weighed 127 lbs. Spencer, despite his illness, knew his body was dying faster than he could keep up with.

“Kid, that’s all you got? What happened to “a brownie”?” Derek’s stern, yet caring voice boomed in the car, drawing Spencer away from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh.. I just wasn’t hungry. I’ll eat lunch later. Breakfast sometimes makes me sick to my stomach.” That wasn’t true. Spencer made himself sick.

“Spencer.” Derek spoke as if he was warning a child to “fess” up.

“What? Don’t look at me like that, like you’re disappointed in me.” Spencer spit his words at Derek.

“Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?” Derek was firm, but Spencer could hear the emotion behind his voice. Spencer felt vulnerable and accused. He felt attacked, even if the accusations were warranted.

“I’m not lying to you! Why would I? You know what Derek, you’re not exactly perfect. What?! I’m not allowed to have a bad day?”

“No, of course you are. Everyone has bad days, Spence. But this is turning into a bad week, and a bad month... You haven’t been okay for a while. Just.. please tell me what’s wrong so we can fix it.” 

“I don’t need you to fix anything!” At this point, Spencer was crying. He hated arguing with Derek. He wanted to tell him what was wrong so bad, but he couldn’t. He already felt like a burden because he was so frightened all the time. He depended so heavily on his friends, especially Derek, and he felt sick because of it.

“Spencer, please. You have to tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you. I know you think you’re a burden, but that’s not true. I love you more than I could ever tell you. I want to be in your life for everything, even the bad. Please, let me help.” Derek reached for Spencer’s hand and held it gently between his own. 

“Derek, I’m scared. What if you hate me?” Spencer knew that was ridiculous, but it didn’t stop him from being terrified if that was the truth.

“Pretty boy, I could ne--” Of course Derek didn’t hate him, but he didn’t get the chance to say it because a call from Penelope interrupted their heartfelt talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i know its been a couple weeks since the last upload, but when i started writing this chapter, i couldn't stop. it just kept going and going and going. it's over 4,000 words now and i'm not finished with it, so i decided to split it up for you. hope you enjoy!


	4. vomit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "how do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become" - doc luben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he doesn't purge in this chapter, but he does throw up. he also has a panic attack, just a fair warning. be careful! :)

Reid and Morgan walked into the unfamiliar precinct from different entrances, despite having arrived in the same car. They both needed some space.

“Woah, woah. Someone seems tense.” Garcia spoke to Morgan with the confidence of a best friend.

He didn’t even speak to her. He shot her a piercing glance and took his seat.

Reid couldn’t stand this case. He hated everything in it and surrounding it. Seeing pictures of those men tortured and abused and raped made him sick to his stomach. They reminded him of himself, stripped naked and left for dead. That’s how he felt constantly. It was so hard for Reid to feel safe and loved in his own skin. The men on his tablet screen remind him of his assault. The images of his attacker kept running through his mind and he realized he wasn’t even paying attention to Garcia’s daily briefing anymore. He had no clue what Hotch had assigned him to do or who he was partnered with today. He didn’t care. He was so painfully aware of every nerve in his body; it seemed he could feel every strand of his hair and every bead of sweat. For a split second, he even thought his teeth were loose in his mouth. His eyes couldn’t focus, they just kept darting around the room looking at everything yet nothing at the same time.

He was having a panic attack. 

For a moment, the room stopped spinning and he lost his balance. He caught himself on the small table in front of him. His arms were weak and achy nerve pain shot through them. 

Reid couldn’t stay in that room any longer just to stand there and listen to them talk about the grotesque things the unsub had done to those poor boys. 

He ran out. Ran. His legs weren’t even strong enough to carry him all the way to the hall before he started stumbling. He struggled the entire way to the nearest closet and disappeared inside. 

He took a deep breath.

In and out. In and out, and in again. He sat there in the silence, trying to forget about what he’d done. 

The thought of having to walk back in that room and face his team brought his freshly finished coffee to the bottom of his throat, and the caring, yet disappointed look on Morgan’s face forced it over the edge. His vomit landed somewhere in the vicinity of the nearest trash bin, but it wasn’t close enough. Luckily, he had run into a supply closet, so paper towels and that weird cat litter “soak-up-your-puke” stuff were readily available. He stared at it for a moment, hoping the problem would fix itself, but it didn’t. He flipped on a light in the closet and shrank back in disgust at the sight of the watery, bloody contents of his stomach. He didn’t really have the time right now to worry about the blood that had left his body. He knew he had to get back.

He started dusting his vomit with the pink-ish powder and was swiftly interrupted. The door opened quickly and hard; it terrified Spencer. 

“Oh-- I’m so sorry. I’ll be out in just a minute! I’m sorry.” Spencer didn’t even look up, just kept profusely apologizing, assuming it was a local officer who had come to the door.

“Spence? It’s just me,” It was JJ. She noticed the vomit on the ground and knelt down to Spencer’s level, concerned that he was still in pain, “Spence, listen to me. Are you okay?”

JJ’s brow was furrowed with concern, but Spencer didn’t say anything.

He looked at her for just a second, then tears started welling in his eyes.

He wrapped his frail, eggshell arms around her neck and let himself fall completely into her. She just held him. She let him rest. And god, did he rest.

For just a minute, nothing was wrong. Spencer was happy and healthy and he wasn’t dying. He wasn’t worried about losing his job or his mom. 

But just as soon as he was calm, the silence began to envelop him. The only thing he could hear was the sound of JJ’s heart beating. All 1.3 gallons of her blood rushing through her veins and stopping for a fraction of a second, just to go flowing off again.

He started to panic again, his breathing hitched and he felt warm tears welling up in his eyes. 

JJ rubbed his back to calm him down. “Spence, honey. You’re okay. I’m right here, you’re safe.” It wasn’t enough.

Her touch suddenly felt suffocating, like his throat was closing and the last gasp of oxygen he’d ever take was wasted on crying. He ripped himself away from her and ran off again. 

He ran into the restroom near him and into a stall. His breath was still frantic and his legs were numb and achy. He took a second to sit down and breathe. When he thought he was strong enough, he tried to stand up. Tried. 

He seemed almost to be a small fawn, learning to walk. His legs couldn’t hold him any longer than they did this morning.

He sat on the bathroom floor, no doubt covered in piss and God knows what else. This was the lowest he’d ever been. 

He’s put himself through hell and back. 

He got up from the floor, using the toilet beside him as support. Weakly, he walked to the sink and leaned in, supporting himself on his arms.

“God! Fucking look at you. You know how disgusting you are? Everyone has to take care of you all the damn time. That’s so unfair to them. And you don't even say thank you?! What kind of selfish, childish, arrogant asshole are you?”

Spencer was screaming at himself in the mirror. He felt so disgusted and fed up with himself. He was crying and this time, there was snot running down from his nose, merging with his tears and streaming all the way down his throat, collecting in the dip between his collarbones.

“Derek is so worried about you and what? You just don’t care? You’re such a horrible friend. You’re so fucking pathetic. Worry about someone else for once. Get over yourself! This is why you don’t deserve to eat anything. Maybe if you learned some self-control and didn’t shove food down your throat every fucking chance you got, you wouldn’t be so goddamn fat. And then maybe, somebody could fucking love you! And you could be fucking happy!”

Spencer didn’t have the energy to yell anymore. There was a burning sensation in the bottom of his throat that just kept rising and rising. He thought he’d throw up again, but he never did.

He was just dry heaving into the sink, hoping something would come up. Suddenly there was a clump in his throat and he forced it out. It was a glob of mucus and blood. Spencer stepped back, shocked. 

He was about to run the sink and wash it out, but someone coming through the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

“Spencer. Are you in here?”

It was Derek. 

He was the last person Spencer wanted to see right now. He felt so bad about earlier. He knew that he owed him an explanation, but how could he explain to the person he loved the most that he hates himself.

Or that he’d rather be dead than live in his own skin anymore.

How does he explain that?

Derek walked calmly over to him and took his thumb under Spencer’s chin to lift it up so that their eyes met.

“Spencer, tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was firm and yet he was on the verge of tears. 

“I-- I don’t know!”

“You can’t keep avoiding me just because you don’t want to admit you’re sick.”

“Fine! Okay, fine!” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from shaking. From anger or cold, he wasn’t sure.

“You’re shivering, Spence. Let’s go outside.” Derek held out his hand and Spencer took it hesitantly.

While walking down the corridor, Spencer felt like a circus animal. Derek felt like the lion tamer.

The walk was slow and silent. Spencer could feel the warmth of Derek’s palm pressed against his wrist. Derek could feel Spencer’s pulse, it was faint and slow, but there nonetheless. Derek never dreamed there would be so much room left between Spencer’s wrist and his fingers. 

It felt like he was holding a fairy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter? not even a day later? that's unheard of haha. like i said, this one was already written and most of chapter 5 is as well, so that should get updated soon. since i'm still working on it, i would love some feedback on chapters 3 and 4, i want to know what you guys wanna see!! have a good day!


	5. try harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "hold him gently in your hands. he has been cracked enough as it is, and his heart is more shattered than he lets on."   
> -endlessroadhome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they have a pretty intense argument in this chapter, just fair warning. (mentions of suicidal ideations/ attempts)

They made it outside and Spencer let the warm sun wash over him. Derek kept leading him further and further until they made it to a gazebo at the end of the green.

They sat down on opposite sides of the table and took a moment to just stare at each other. They loved each other so much, and they both knew this conversation would be the hardest thing they had ever done. 

Spencer took the lead for once. “What do you want to know?”

The question shocked Derek. What did he want to know? Everything? He wanted to know why it felt like his best friend was dead. Why Spencer never called anymore. Derek wanted to know if he had done something wrong or if he could’ve stopped this from happening. There were so many questions rushing through his head, but he resigned to asking Spencer if he was okay.

“I mean. I’ve definitely been worse. I’m okay.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I don’t know.”

“Spence, please explain it to me. I’m here to help.” Derek was already choking back tears.

“I don’t need help. I told you I was fine.” Spencer didn’t want to have to tell Derek how bad it had gotten. He knew Derek would blame himself, even though he was the nuisance.

“Don’t need help? You look like you’re dying. That’s not okay.” Derek was getting angry. Why wouldn’t he let him be there for him?

“Good!” Spencer couldn’t stop crying.

“Good? What do you mean ‘good’?”

“I wish I was dead. Everything would be so much easier if I was just fucking dead!”

“Spencer, don’t say that! What the hell is wrong with you, why would you think that?”

“Because it’s true, okay?! Everyone would be better off. JJ could stop babying me all of the time. Penelope wouldn’t have to send me a fucking gift basket every time I missed work. And you wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore!”

“Hun, we don’t want that. Listen to yourself. We love you.”

“Ever think that maybe that’s not good enough? Like maybe I need something more than that? I know you love me but that doesn’t fix this. Love doesn’t get rid of the constant stinging in my chest. It doesn't magically make me beautiful. It can’t help my mom get better. It doesn’t fucking fix anything!”

“You have to let me help! I know it doesn’t magically make everything better, but something has to change. You can’t keep living like this. I can’t sit around you and watch you kill yourself. You have to try harder!” Derek realized what he said just as soon as he said it.

“Tr-try harder?! Do you think I’m not fucking trying? I get up every morning and put on clothes and come to work, and I think that’s trying. I put my heart into every case we work, that’s trying.”

“I know. I didn’t mean it like that--” Derek took a pause to catch his breath and before he could continue apologizing, Spencer started in again.

“Do you know how hard it is for me to wake up? It’s a fucking nightmare. You want to know what’s wrong with me? There. That’s it. I wish I was dead. I wish I looked like you, or Hotch, or, at least, someone who isn’t me. I hate myself and living like this is so fucking exhausting. You know last week, when we worked that case in Ohio? The one with the shoot out? I wish he’d killed me instead of that officer.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Why not?! Everyone would be better off, and don’t act like you don’t already know it.” Spencer had said the thing he was the most afraid of. He was scared that Derek would hate him for being weak. He looked away, ashamed of what he’d said.

“Spence, why would you think that?”

“It feels like my chest is falling in on itself and I can’t catch my breath. I am so SICK of being alive. I’m so tired of being here, and I know you’ll hate me for saying this, but I don’t care. You want the truth?” Spencer knew he should’ve quit while he’s ahead, but he didn’t.

Derek nodded silently.

“Every morning I wake up and wish I didn’t. Sometimes, I fall asleep in the bathtub and hope my muscles atrophy and I can’t pull myself from under the water. The other night I brought my gun home so I could fucking shoot myself! But then you’d be sad and angry with me and someone would have to tell my mom and I can’t do that to her. But it’s so bullshit having to wake up every day and keep living when every case we work, I pray that I’m in a body bag on the way back home.” Spencer’s chest was filled with a sort of angry, discontented-ness and his tears streamed down his face even harder than before.

“You can’t keep feeling this way. I need you here with me, Spence. You mean the world to me. And yeah, I would be mad if you killed yourself. That’s weak and you know it. You’re stronger than that. You have to see that.”

Spencer was infuriated and upset anyway, Derek telling him he was weak didn’t help. He needed Derek to be patient, that’s the only reason why he told him. He thought, of all people, Derek Morgan would understand what he was going through.

But apparently, he didn’t

“Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Suddenly Spencer was reserved and defensive. He’d had his fit and now he just wanted to be done talking.

“Please, let me help you!” Derek was still crying. All he wanted to do was touch Spencer, hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. He reached his hand out and grabbed Spencer’s, interlacing their fingers.

Spencer tore it away.

“Don’t touch me.” Spencer spit at the man he felt so much love for.

He stood up and wiped the tears from his neck.

“I’m sorry. I won’t. Just please sit back down,” Derek was pleading. He knew if Spencer didn’t finish this conversation now, he might never.

“No. I’m done talking.”

“Why? Please, Spencer. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you to try harder, it’s not what I meant.”

“Well it’s what you said, wasn’t it?,” He spoke with a spiked tongue. He was angry and frustrated. He knew he didn’t mean it, “I’m exhausted, Derek.”

It was true, Spencer hadn’t spoken that many words in succession with that much passion in months. 

Derek stood up and sighed.

They looked at each other and Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but neither of them had anything to say.

With tears burning their throat and knots in their stomachs, they both walked in silence back to the precinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey. okay so this week has been super hectic and my weekend will be too. chapter 6 might not get uploaded for a bit, but it won't be long!! oh, and I promise the next chapter will have some good things in it, not quite as sad. let me know what you think/want? have a good day guys!


	6. crutches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "now, do not misunderstand me; when i call myself a shell i mean-- a used up bullet casing. as in, the aftermath of something lethal. as in, an echo of conflicted evil"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter deals with hospitals and broken bones and things like that, so be careful if that stuff upsets you

Two hours later saw everyone on the team in better moods. Everyone except Reid.

It’s not so much that he was upset anymore, just sad. He felt like Morgan hated him for everything he had said earlier. What if things were never the same between them?

Spencer didn’t have time to mope, JJ wouldn't let him.

Hotch had partnered Reid and JJ today after the wreck that was his conversation with Morgan. Spencer tried to contain himself when he walked in, but he couldn’t. As soon as he saw how worried everyone was for him, he burst into tears again.

They all wrapped their arms around Reid and squeezed. He felt suffocated but so, so loved. 

Morgan waited idly by and once everyone else had hugged Reid they stepped out of the way to uncloak and teary, red-eyed Morgan. Reid collapsed into his arms and Morgan just held him there. One hand in his hair, the other soothing his back-- they stood in blissful silence.

For the first time in what felt like months, Reid’s head was quiet. 

No racing of numbers or letters to distract himself from the ache in his stomach.

No jittery, shaky hands from the caffeine, no bloodshot eyes.

The constant chill that plagued his body was gone and for an instant, he was warm. He was loved. He felt _held_.

\-----------  
JJ and Reid were already in the car when they got an urgent call from Hotch telling them that a woman had reported seeing her neighbor acting suspiciously and possibly carrying a body in Jackpot, Nevada. 

“When we asked her why she thought it was a body, she just hung up. She told us the address and that was it. It’s far out and probably unrelated, but you guys are closest, so I want you to check it out. Backup can’t be there for at least an hour, so if anything goes wrong, and I mean anything, get out of there.” Hotch always spoke with such directness it seemed he was always irritated when actually, he was just worried for his team.

“We will, Hotch. Don’t worry.” JJ attempted to reassure him that they would be careful.

“Be safe.” Anytime Hotch hung up on Reid and JJ, a pang in his chest told him it might be the last. Just an aching feeling that Reid carried horrible luck wherever he went.

Reid’s stomach leapt into his throat. Hotch had put them in charge of being the first team members to go to the crime scene because they were the closest.

Already Reid couldn’t get the image of the first two rotting corpses out of his head, now he had to look at another? His face greened and paled at the thought.

“Everything okay, Spence?” JJ asked in the same lilting voice with which she cared for Henry. 

“Yeah. I’m good. I just don’t really feel up for a new body right now. I’ll get over it.”

“Are you sure? I can go alone.” 

Reid’s breath caught in his chest. The last time he and JJ split up, he was kidnapped. The thought of that happening to JJ and how scared Will and Henry would be-- Reid just wouldn’t let that happen. 

“No!--” He took a pause to collect himself.

“No, we’ll stick together. I don’t want to be alone, JJ.” Reid’s eyes were pleading with the beg and need of a toddler. He hated when JJ babied him most of the time, but right now that’s what he craved most.

“Okay, Spence. We won’t split up.”

They both stepped out of the car once they had arrived at their destination. The road they took to get there was long and winding. It spun around trees and abandoned sheds. It swam across rivers and creeks. Reid couldn't help but be reminded of Tobias Hankel. He quickly shook the thoughts from his mind.

The sun was nearly set and a thick fog loomed in the distance. Reid and JJ made a bet.

“We’re in and out in let’s say 15 minutes?” posed JJ, who hoped that was the outcome anyway. It was wishful thinking at best.

“I say even less. Statistically, there are only 13 doors in American homes, we’ll say 19 for this one because it’s three floors. And it typically takes us less than 10 seconds to clear a room so that me--”

“Spence, I got it.”

“Oh, yeah.” 

JJ stepped onto the porch and the cracked, dry-rotted stairs groaned under her feet. Reid noticed the howl of the wind ripping through the chimes above their heads.

“This place creeps me out.” JJ’s concern seemed genuine.

“I know, Jennifer. Let’s get this over with.”

Reid took a deep breath and followed JJ. The house smelled like stagnant water and the aura of death seeped into Reid’s bones. Any warmth he felt earlier left him as he navigated the old, southern plantation-style house.

Reid had taken the top floor and worked his way down as JJ worked her way up. 

Upstairs was clear, not a sound coming from any direction. Reid had checked everything. Being as paranoid as he could be sometimes, he even checked twice.

He and JJ met on the landing which led to the 2nd floor; they went separate directions. Reid took the left wing and JJ the right. A chill settled within the both of them. Something was wrong.

But Reid knew he was only scared because they were so far from civilization so-to-speak. Growing up in Vegas, the hustle of the city felt like home and out here, in the marsh in the middle of nowhere, he felt exposed.

Reid entered the first room on his right, a half bath. It was clear. He moved another 10 or so feet, the study on his left was clear. 

3 minutes later and he was in front of a looming chamber door.

JJ had given her “all clear” which signaled that her side was completely empty. Nobody, no live person. Nothing. 

Reid clicked the door handle, it was locked. JJ walked behind him now.

“Do you want me to get it? I don’t mind”

“No, JJ, I can do it.” He knew he was lying. He couldn’t break the lock on the door, not with all the strength in his body.

He tried anyway.

He pulled back to give himself the needed distance to kick the door-- he took a deep breath --and kicked.

The door gave, but so did Reid.

His leg wasn’t strong enough to hold him up once he upset his balance. He crashed to the floor and cried. His aching stomach wasn’t enough to distract him from the shooting, burning pain which now resonated in his leg. 

“Oh my God, Spence. Are you okay?” 

He just sat there.

JJ went in ahead of him.

The library she entered was nothing short of magnificent, she cleared the room and then stood to marvel at all of the long-forgotten books on the shelves.

Reid tried to pull himself off the ground, but he couldn’t. He thought it would just take him a minute to catch his breath, but it didn’t. He sat there, staring at the books from afar, praying he could pry himself up.

He knew his body was decaying, and no amount of prayer or coffee was going to fix him. 

He had to get out of the floor; they still had work to do.

So he swallowed his pride.

“JJ, please help me,” Reid spoke with the softness of a young child, so as to not seem desperate for help, but he was, “I can’t get up.”

JJ rushed over to help him to his feet. She got him upright and helped him hobble into the library.

The amazement in the air around Reid partly distracted him from the hot pain that seared through his leg.

Reid’s eyes were bright and big for once. He loved the smell of all the old books which now surrounded him and JJ. He gave himself a moment to marvel at the grace of the stories which had inspired his life. There wasn’t a single title he saw on the shelves which he hadn’t read.

It wasn’t long before his pain caught up with his joy and he stumbled toward the library door. 

“JJ. We need to get going,” the pain in his leg was blinding and white-hot.

“Yeah… to the hospital, Spence,’ she said with a giggle.

Reid didn’t think it was funny.

“I am NOT going to a hospital. _I’m fine._

“You are NOT going back out in the field. Spence, I really think you broke your leg. I can’t let you.”

Reid sighed in defeat.

They began walking down the stairs and Reid was determined he could do it himself.

JJ refused to let go of his arm.

“You know… you don’t have to do everything yourself. I’m here for you, and I always will be, Spence.”

Reid was short and reserved, suddenly the conversation felt heavier than before. That suffocating feeling of tears crept up his throat.

“L-let's just go,” he said with a strained, tired voice.

The ride to the nearest hospital was 2 hours long and it was silent.

\----------

JJ had called Hotch on the way, so when they arrived at the hospital, Reid’s room was already prepped.

They had taken x-rays and then insisted, much from the persistence of Derek Morgan, that Reid wait for his results in a private room.

“How’re you feeling?” Hotch asked as the nurse helped lower Reid into the bed.

Reid waited until the nurse had left the room.

“I’m okay. Really, you guys are making a big deal out of nothing,” Reid said with a smile on his face.

Everyone else in the room knew that maybe they had overreacted. 

Not Penelope.

“Penelope, why are you crying? I’m going to be okay,” Reid was genuinely puzzled as to why she was so upset.

She shuffled over to him and gave him a hug. 

“I just hate it when you guys get hurt.” She was now crying into his shoulder, which made Reid wildly uncomfortable.

He loved Penelope, and she had helped him more times than he could count. She sent him gift baskets and letters anytime he missed a day at work. Every morning, without fail, she asked him if he was okay. Not in the “how are you?” kind of way, but “are you okay, do you need to talk?”

He was extremely appreciative of it deep down, but on the surface, her kind gestures and physical affection made him sick to his stomach.

Every time she hugged him he was terrified she’d pull back and make note of how thin he had gotten.

Morgan noticed the look on his face and gently patted Garcia’s shoulder. She took a moment to herself in the hall.

Reid knew he had to be strong for everyone else, but his leg really hurt. Not a normal kind of pain, where you thought it would eventually go away, no. This pain felt like a kick in the teeth. Every minute he spent on that bed, the burning in his throat grew worse, and his eyes got redder, and the sharp sting of collapsed bone blinded him.

But he couldn’t cry or let anyone else know he was in pain. 

Reid had always made it a point to himself that he was strong. He was never physically strong, so he had to be able to mentally protect himself from the abuse and ridicule he endured from his childhood peers, but this wasn’t about that.

This was about drugs.

After his incident with Tobias Hankel, he became addicted to the Dilaudid Tobias had given him. If that wasn’t bad enough, just when he thought he had it under control, the dealer he had been buying from offered him some oxy for a discount, and he took his chances. 

The oxy spiraled into anything Reid could get his hands on. Adderall, Hydrocodone, anything. He replaced his morning and afternoon coffees with pills and for dinner, he’d had Dilaudid with a side of cheap wine. 

No one noticed for a while, seeing as he had always been thin, but one day he walked into the office and the stench of alcohol radiated off of him, and Hotch couldn’t just let it go.

\----------

_“Reid. In my office.” Hotch’s voice was stern._

_Reid lazily lifted his head to look at his boss. He made no effort to move._

_“Reid. Now!”_

_Reid got up and stumbled from his chair to the desk and then to the stair railing._

_All of the lights were too bright and his head was pounding._

_As he reached the threshold of Hotch’s office, he felt a familiar pull in his stomach. Bile and mucus lurched up his throat and thankfully caught in his mouth instead of on the floor._

_He rushed for Hotch’s trashcan and just barely made it, but the force of his heaving stomach was enough to send him to the floor._

_Hotch helped him up and into a chair. As furious as he might be with Reid at the moment, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him._

_“I’m sorry Hotch. I know why I’m in here.” Reid struggled to get the words out._

_“You do?”_

_“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t get those files done yesterday, you told me to have them on your desk before you got here this morning and I just completely forgot. They’ll be done by the end of the day, Sir.” Reid sounded rushed and out of breath. This was the first time he really felt his body start to decay._

_‘What-- No, Reid. That’s not why you’re here.”_

_Reid was kind of taken aback._

_“You’re here in light of your recent behavior.”_

_“My behavior?”_

_“You mean to tell me that you aren’t aware that you reek of alcohol? Or that you look like you haven’t had a meal in three weeks?”_

_“I don't smell like alcohol…” Reid was being defensive about the former because he knew he couldn't honestly tell Hotch he hadn’t been eating. And it was easier to admit to his drug addiction than to his eating disorder._

_“Yes. You do. Reid, I can’t have you in the office again until this issue is solved. I care about you and I need you on this team. I won’t tell anyone about your condition, but you have to take care of yourself. Your position will be here when you get better, but until you can show me that you can perform this job without abusing substances, I’m going to have to make you step down.”_

_“But, Hotch, I can do I--”_

_“This is not up for discussion. I will have an agent drive you home and make sure you’re settled, then I will contact you with referrals to well-known drug addiction specialists.”_

_“Hotch-- Please don’t make me. I can get better on my own.” Reid was pleading. Everything in his body was in fight or flight mode. He had worked so hard to get to this point and he didn’t want to ruin it now._

_“I will not argue with you. You’re either going, or you aren’t coming back.”_

\--------

Remembering the single most embarrassing thing he’s ever lived through genuinely took a lot out of Reid. He was physically exhausted and all this stress wasn’t exactly helping him feel better.

“Hey, could you guys… Could you please leave? -- I really don’t want to be mean, I just want to be alone,” Reid was just trying to get some sleep, well, rest at least.

Everyone left the small, cold room to let Reid have his space, Morgan turned to leave after everyone evacuated but stopped himself.

His large frame hung in the doorway, staring at Reid as if he might fall apart if he left.

“I’m gonna stay, pretty boy. I promise I’ll let you sleep.”

Spencer didn't have the energy to protest, and honestly, he didn’t care. Only because it was Derek.

Spencer was scared. He had never felt the cold seep in through his skin faster than being alone in the room with Derek. He cherished him more than anything in life, but Spencer knew if Derek knew the truth, he would hate him.

Spencer flipped over onto his side, groaning in pain as he did so. His thin, yet stiff gown was loosely tied and far too big. It barely scraped his knees which made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Facing away from Derek seemed to be the best option at the time. Spencer had been holding in tears nearly all day and now with the excruciating pain in his leg, he couldn’t stop them from rolling down his cheek.

Spencer, on his side, curled entirely into himself, would have been a peaceful image for Derek if he hadn’t heard the crying. 

Derek’s eyes shot over to Spencer. Something about this routine felt off. Derek was used to Spencer’s crying. They’re as close as they could be and, in no way, was Spencer afraid to be emotional around Derek.

But this wasn’t normal: it was small and meek. Like for some reason, Spencer didn’t want him to see.

Derek didn’t care. He stood up from his bedside chair and placed a hand right above Spencer’s hip to comfort him.

The jagged poke to Derek’s hand nearly made him gasp. What the hell was that?

Derek had been so worried about Spencer’s leg he hadn’t noticed how minuscule he looked in his hospital gown. How visible his vertebrae were from the gap in the back. Or how even though he was laying on his side, his thighs never met. The longer Derek stared at him, the worse it got. And Derek was astounded at how little flesh seemed to cling to Spencer’s frame.

In shock, Derek took a seat on the bed, never moving his hand from Spencer.

The shift in weight surprised Spencer and he stirred, rolling back over to face the man who was now too close for comfort.

Spencer looked up at Derek with red, swollen eyes and a runny nose. There was something childlike about how purely dependent he was on Derek for reassurance.

“Kid..” Derek didn’t even know where to begin and Spencer didn’t know what he was talking about, so they sat in silence for a moment, both longing to hear the other speak.

“Spencer, what have you done to yourself?”

The question was enough to steal the breath from Spencer’s lungs. How could he ask him that? 

“There are more important things to worry about right now,” Spencer said as he wiped his nose and eyes, now that shock and embarrassment had temporarily replaced the pain.

“Like what?!”

“Oh, I don’t know! How about the fact that my leg is shattered in three different places and I won’t be able to take care of myself for 4 months?”

Their argument was interrupted by a different nurse than before.

“Hello, Mr. Reid and Mr…” she paused to find the right name on the list of Reid’s visitors, “Morgan!”

“How are you both doing today?” She said with a wide smile on her face.

Morgan and Reid glanced at each other and then back at the nurse.

Reid spoke first. “I’m doing fine.”

“Well,” she said, “That’s good. I’m surprised you aren’t in a great deal of pain, honey.”

“Like I said, It’s okay.”

“Okay, well I’m glad to hear it. My name is Janice and I work in the pharmacy here at the hospital”

Those were the only words Reid to hear in order to send Morgan packing.

“Hey, Derek. Could you leave us alone for a while? Maybe go join everyone else in the waiting room?”

Morgan sighed, “Fine.” Without another word, he left.

“So now, from what your doctor tells me, you’ll be in a bit of a pickle with this leg for a while, huh?” She kind of giggled when she said it and you could tell she was trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, I’m going to recommend a 4 mg dose of Dilaudid, taken twice daily.”

Reid’s face fell. Dilaudid? He didn’t know if he could handle taking it again without overdoing it.

“Now don't worry sweetheart, it’s not an injection, hun. It’s just a pill.”

She said it like that made it better. It didn’t. It made it so, so much worse.

There was a lump of dread building in Reid’s throat. He was panicking and he started to sweat. His hands shook as he moved them to cross his arms. Through all of the shaking and nervousness, he managed to swallow his dread and tell the pharmacist “thank you” for visiting.

“Well, bye-bye, sweetheart. I sure hope this medicine helps you out!”

Her warm smile left Reid somewhat unsettled. He could have told her no, he could have screamed at her to change the medication to something else, but he didn’t. And if he was honest, he was ecstatic to be taking Dilaudid again.

He could finally start losing actual weight again instead of being at this standstill.

He got up from the hospital bed, leaning on the railing for support. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the hall.

“You got it, Reid?” Rossi sounded slightly concerned, most likely voicing the opinion of the whole team.

“I’m actually more than fine right now.” Reid took a minute to scan the waiting area for familiar faces. Everyone was there, except Morgan.

Penelope, being the sleuth she is, piped up immediately. 

“He’s just right outside, hun. He’ll be back any minute.”

Reid breathed in a sigh of relief. There was no worse feeling than upsetting Morgan, letting him down. He needed to see him right now and apologize for all the yelling today.

As if God himself had planned it, Morgan walked in the door right as Reid finished his thought.

A flood of relief rushed through Reid and he forgot about everything bad that had happened that day. His leg, his body, his almost-heartbreak. Everything washed away when he saw Morgan’s face.

Reid stood hesitant for a moment, not sure if Morgan would forgive him, or even wanted to. As steadily as he could manage on crutches and frail bones, he walked to Morgan and looked up at him.

Not the way someone looks up at a lover or a friend. It was the way a scared kid looks up at their mom because they know they’re safe in her arms.

Morgan made the first move and pulled Reid into the tightest hug he could manage. 

Reid buried his face in Morgan’s chest and sobbed apologies that fell on deaf ears. 

“Shhhhh. Come here, pretty boy,” Morgan just let Reid cry. Spencer needed this and so did he.

They stayed like that for a time that felt like forever and an instant all at once, just relishing in each other’s arms.

Reid’s ribs were starting to ache from the taught hug, but what did it matter? He was happy, he wasn’t in pain. He let himself be utterly content.

Hotch came from behind Morgan and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m glad that you two feel better. Morgan, why don’t you take Reid home and help get him settled. If you’re okay with that?”

Reid was praying he would say yes and no at the same time. Morgan hadn’t been in his apartment since his overdose, there was no way of knowing what Morgan felt. But his heart ached to be with him that night, just to have someone there.

“Of course! Yeah, sweetheart, why don’t we get going so you can get some rest. Don’t lie to me, I know you’re tired.” Morgan laughed through the sentences as if he didn’t know Reid was actually exhausted. But Reid knew Morgan was just trying to protect him.

Garcia chimed from the huddle that had encased them in the hallway.

“You,” she said pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “you call me as soon as you get there.” The finger re-locked in Reid as a target now. “You get some sleep. You really messed that leg up. Okay, hun?”

“Yes ma’am. I promise I’ll make him try his best.” Reid loved when Morgan took care of him and spoke up for him. He felt protected and loved and utterly at peace.

Everyone took turns telling the men goodbye. Garcia, in her very special way, gave them both excruciatingly loving hugs. JJ and Prentiss hugged them at the same time, swapping when they were done. Hotch and Rossi offer more curt and distanced waves.

No matter how they chose to tell them bye, five words rang true in all of their gestures. They all said “I love you. Be careful,” and they all meant it.

Deep down, Reid knew that, but it didn’t matter.

Tonight would be fine with Derek there, but as soon as he left and Spencer felt truly alone, the world would continue to crumble around him.

His eating disorder. His addiction. Something would break him.

Spencer chose to put that aside for tonight, choosing to focus on Derek instead. He needed the comfort of laying in his arms, no doubt being carried across the threshold so that Spencer wouldn’t have to move his leg. Through all of his anxieties one thing, no, _one person_ kept him grounded and calm. 

Derek Morgan had been his saving grace and Spencer dreamed that he always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is no excuse for putting this off so long. i'm sorry you guys, but i'm back now! i hope you guys enjoy. also, im thinking of making a playlist to go along with the story, just let me know if you'd like that. again, sorry for the hiatus.


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